Kiss of Ashes
by InvisibleBlade
Summary: The Doctor is like fire, but stand too close and you'll get burnt. And what happens when you do get burnt? Who will be there to sweep up the ashes? 11/Rory centric fic. Co written between myself and Jesa463. Please R&R. Complete.
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: We do not own.**

**A/N : This story is co written between me and Jesa463! So a big thanks to her! **

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The Doctor listened to the gut-wrenching noise of the TARDIS doors slamming shut. "Bye-bye, Ponds." he whispered underneath his breath. With each farewell he had to say to the fiery red-head and the Roman his hearts broke a little more. Every time he said the word goodbye, something within himself told him that there could very well be one day when he and the Ponds just wouldn't see each other again. That thought devastated him. He loved the Ponds, and they loved him, they were his family. Whatever danger he put them in they would always stand by him. He can't remember his own family ... or rather he chooses not to. Instead those memories lie under years of dust, regret, and woe. He's never had a mother, not that he can recall, and Amy in a way he supposes is the closest thing he's ever had to one. She opens up her arms to him, she's been with him in good times and bad, and most importantly she doesn't judge him. She sees past all the wrongs he has ever committed very much like a mother who forgives their child, no matter how destructive a path they have been down. Rory, ah the last centurion. He was like the father he had always wanted, but was always cut off from having. From what very little memories he has of his father he knows he was a cruel man. He can still feel the sharp pain in the back of his neck as a metal rod was forcibly whacked into him as a punishment for ... what? He hadn't done anything wrong. He had only said that he wanted to see the universe and explore the was the only clear memory of his father. It was a memory he tried to avoid. Rory on the other hand was kind, and gentle, and incredibly big-hearted, and there were many enjoyable memories. In fact there were so many memories he had with the Ponds that, sometimes, it physically hurt. He found himself wondering to himself about what would happen to all those wonderful memories in a thousand years time. Would they rot within his mind like so many others had? Would they simply slip away into a faded picture of what once was?

He typed in a few random coordinates on the console with a shaking hand. He found himself delving into the images of the day's events. These were memories that he wished he didn't have. Why was it that the bad memories stuck firmly to his mind, whilst the good ones just simply slipped through like tiny grains of sand?

Exhaling deeply he scrunched his eyes shut and rubbed at his forehead. All-in-all, everything had gone to plan ... well kind of. Everything had gone to plan: Doctor style! Which is basically short for: there was no plan in the first place, but everything worked out alright in the end. He had fixed the Ponds, or they seemed to have fixed themselves, successfully gotten the Daleks to blow up the most dangerous place in the universe: the Asylum of the Daleks. The Asylum had been far more brutal than he had imagined. The Daleks there were insane, and terrifying, and the ones that had crossed his path in battle had left him with a grotesque feeling in the very pit of his stomach.

A shiver ran up his back as he remembered staring into Oswin's eye stalk. He was sickened and enraged at how the Daleks had manipulated yet another life. At first he had been certain that Oswin was nothing more than a puppet but, to his horror, she had been converted into a fully fledged Dalek, yet right at the end she proved to him just how very wrong he had been with his judgements. Oswin had been human, so human she had created a dream for herself: a world of souffle making, and listening to classical music whilst messing with her captors' minds. She had been so human that she had sacrificed herself for him.

When will this stop, Doctor? When will all the death and destruction you cause stop? he thought to himself coldly. Hatred for himself bubbled over, and he could feel himself almost at his tipping point. He just hoped he didn't fall into the trap of falling off the edge. If he did that who knows what he'd become? He would stop at nothing. He would become the Timelord victorious, a righteous being who bent the universe into a shape that fitted him. No! He couldn't go back to that dark place. No one, not even him, should have that kind of power.

Perhaps the Daleks had been right. They had never been able to kill him because of how much hatred he held over himself. They saw him as beautiful ... that was a nauseating and terrifying thought. He had risen above the Daleks and they, in turn, had grown stronger in his name. Now there wasn't a single Dalek who could remember him. It hurt, it hurt so much. It's not so easy for him. He can't forget who he is, ever, or else there may be detrimental effects to the universe that not even he could stop. His name, once exposed, would be fatal for so many. He himself had buried his name away, deep under the surface of his skin. His own people had treated him as an outcast because of the name he was cursed with, and look where they were now: burning in a timelocked hell. From his tiny beginnings on Gallifrey to the great almighty Doctor. How had he come to this? It hadn't been his intention. He had started off so innocent, borrowing a TARDIS, and running away to explore, to walk on new planets, to breath new air. Then the war came, the great endless war, and he began to change, he had become a warrior, the best warrior in existence. It was completely out of his control, yet it was still all his fault. He could never run away, and he could never forget no matter how much he wanted to, or how much he tried to divert his thoughts away from every dark moment of his past because, sooner or later, it would catch up with him. Everyone he ever lost, everyone who sacrificed themselves for him, all the lives he destroyed. It was the curse of a Timelord. How was that fair? He hadn't chosen to become a Timelord. He had been born a Gallifreyan, and if it had been up to him he would have stayed one, but that would have been seen as sacrilege by his people. He was only a child when he was initiated. Eight years old and forced to watch the raw power of time and space.

He had run.

He had been inspired.

He had gone mad.

Any protest about becoming a Timelord had been drowned out by the ferocity of time itself.

He had been cursed to lead a life of death and destruction.

Clenching his fist angrily, he banged a random red button on the console with brute force, but he soon found himself regretting that action immediately as the ground caved in from beneath him.

That's when he heard it: a panicked, low-pitched yell. The whole TARDIS tumbled around him and he barely managed to catch a glimpse of a very familiar face before everything came to a shuddering stop. Groaning, he stood up and rubbed his back which was now covered in a layer of bruises from the fall. He quickly surveyed his surroundings looking for the person he had just seen, but he couldn't see them anywhere. A couple of ragged breaths alerted him that the person had fallen just behind the console.

The Doctor rushed there and let out a slow, deeply-saddened sigh. "Oh, Rory. You got a proper whack to the head, didn't you?" he muttered, shaking his head slightly at the unconscious man splayed out on the TARDIS floor. He inspected the man for any signs of obvious injury, but there were none that he could see. Still, there was always the chance he had broken something. Humans were just so fragile, so breakable. That was why humans were so precious to him; their lives were so short, so mundane he couldn't resist their wonder of the universe when it was right in front of them to see. That was also the reason he had to keep on saying goodbye. Humans didn't last forever, but he did, or so it seemed to him. He envied them: they could end their suffering, but he couldn't end his. Frowning, The Doctor scooped the man up into his arms and began carrying him to the medical bay. He couldn't help but feel a little disconcerted that Rory had been on-board the TARDIS. Shouldn't he have gone home with Amy? They had made up, hadn't they? Or at least all that humany-wumany kissing malarkey had made it seem that way.

He watched the unconscious man carefully and found, to his surprise, that he was almost instinctively snuggling closer against his chest and wrapping his arms around him in a vise-like grip. A blush raced up The Doctor's neck and flooded across his cheeks. He never really understood the concept of "snuggling" but he was over one thousand years old, so he'd seen plenty of highly-disturbing Earth films about it ... and other things too, though those other things were highly understandable, and were all in the name of nature, but snuggling? It felt unnatural, yet warm, and gave him funny tingling sensations all over. Sort of like a hug, but far less huggy and far more snuggly, he supposed.

He was only glad when he could finally place the young human on the cot in the medical bay. Rory's warmth quickly left him, but that tingling sensation persisted. It ran across his skin and fell steadily in his chest.

Running a weary hand over his face The Doctor took a step forwards and kissed the top of Rory's head, "You humans. Always wriggling your way into my hearts somehow, hmm."

He raked a hand through his dark brown hair. Another person hurt because of his foolish, rash actions.

Now all he had to do was wait for the Roman to open his eyes. Then he could apologize to him, and let him go back to the normal life he led in Leadworth. He would be left alone once more, a mad lonely man with a box. The way it should always have been. The way it was going to be from now on.

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	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER: Doctor Who belongs to the BBC.**

**A/N: A huge thanks goes to everyone who has reviewd/faved/alerted. Also a special thanks goes out to Jesa463!**

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Rory Williams was waking up, or at least that's what his half-conscious mind told him was happening.

In his experience, waking up without even the faintest memory of going to sleep in the first place was never a good thing. The last time he felt like this he had awoken to being a plastic centurion who the universe had forgotten. He remembered how defeated he felt when Amy looked him in the eye without even a drop of recognition or love for him in those huge eyes of hers. He had fallen in love with those eyes from the first time he met her as a child. He worked so hard to gain even the tiniest place within her heart though he had known that she would never truly be his. A long time ago her heart belonged to The Doctor : the mad man in a blue box who, once upon a time, promised her he would come back to her in five minutes.

In a way, Rory supposed he was grateful for The Doctor breaking his promise to Amy. It had given him a chance to grow on her. They had become friends, best friends. He had been overjoyed with that, ecstatic even, and when Mels pointed out to Amy that he had a huge crush on her, and when she kissed him ... he cut a vow into the depths of his heart: He vowed that he'd do anything for her.

It was still slightly weird to think about Mels being their daughter. It was almost painful to think about how their daughter grew up with the lifestyle that she did, even though both he and Amy knew perfectly well that their daughter was now alive and well, that she was River Song.

When Amy began traveling the stars with The Doctor he tagged along, and went with the crazy, death-defying plans she and The Doctor seemed so fond of. When it came to her looking at him like he was a ghost he hadn't minded. He still loved her, even then, and as he sat outside the Pandorica for two thousand years, as he pulled the box through hell and back to protect the woman within, he remembered his vow to her. Then the universe had been rebooted and everything had been perfectly normal for a while. At least as normal as a life with The Doctor could get anyway. Then Demons Run happened ... he held his little girl, and he felt so happy. It had possibly been the happiest he felt in his entire life, and it had been wiped out in the blink of an eye.

After that he and Amy's relationship had been rocky. All leading to that kiss back in the Asylum of the Daleks ... the kiss that marked the end of them.

Because Amy had been right. Love wasn't the problem they had. It was the scars of the past that would always haunt them. The scars left from traveling with The Doctor.

Amy couldn't have children, and no matter how many times he said that he was fine with that she didn't believe it. Every time they saw a child her facade would slip and he would see just how devastated she was that she couldn't give him one. He told her that they had River, and that was more than enough, but he knows that doesn't stop the guilt surging up within her.

When he kissed her back in the face of death, he found himself remembering his vow. He'd do anything for her. He was leaving her, for her. He couldn't stand by and watch her feeling guilty about a thing neither of them could change. She deserved to be happy, and she wasn't going to get happiness when he was around. She needed a fresh start, and perhaps he did too.

This was all The Doctor's fault. All of it was!

And yet Rory had found that the only person he could truly turn to was the person standing at the root of his problems.

That's right he remembered now! He crept into the TARDIS, unseen. To ask him why he had to fall in Amy's garden all those years ago. To ask him why he had come back. He wanted to know how The Doctor felt about destroying his life. Then the floor dropped from beneath his feet, and he had fallen, further and further, until his world turned a startling shade of black.

Rory opened his eyes.

A flash of green peeking out from a sea of dark brown hair. The Doctor.

This was Rory's chance!

Ignoring the stabbing pain in the side of his head, and the way the world around him was was throbbing in and out of existence, he shifted himself into a sitting position.

" Rory, you're awake!" The Doctor exclaimed, wrapping his arms around him in a bear-sized hug, " Are you ok? You hit your head good and proper." His calm, caring voice washed over Rory like burning oil," Mr. Pond?" The Doctor squeaked worriedly as he waited for a reply.

That was the last straw for Rory. How could The Doctor sound so sincere when his world had been torn apart? Rory had nothing left. Didn't The Doctor understand that? Amy had been his everything, and now he had been forced to leave her because of The Doctor's careless actions.

Rory remembered telling him once about what his actions did to people. He told him how The Doctor made people make rash decisions. That was a long time ago though. It felt like a lifetime ago, and yet The Doctor hadn't changed one bit since that conversation. The Doctor was still ruining his life, even now.

" Please." He mumbled under his breath groggily, " Don't call me that."

" Call you what, Pond? Hmm." The Doctor asked, cupping his cheek ever so slightly.

Rory lashed out at The Doctor, but because of his weakened form, the effect his fist had on the alien was perhaps equivalent to a butterfly gracing his chin. It was enough to cause The Doctor to back off though, and it seemed to be enough to shut him up too.

Rory swallowed down hard as The Doctor stared at him from the very corner of the TARDIS medical bay. He resembled a puppy that had been kicked to the curb with his downcast expression, and watery eyes.

Rory closed his eyes momentarily. Taking the chance to find some peace in the darkness. He shouldn't have done that. Violence wasn't going to help anything, and it wasn't as if The Doctor had physically taken him and Amy on board the TARDIS without consent. It was a lifestyle that both he and Amy had grown to love. The Doctor had only been too happy to show them the stars. Rory knew what he'd choose if given a choice between traveling alone, and being with friends. He couldn't pin the blame on him entirely. Never the less, he still couldn't help but resent the man.

Squinting his eyes back open he almost jumped as The Doctor's face loomed over his. Frown lines were burrowed into The Doctors brow, and his jaw was clenched. He wasn't angry, and he didn't seem upset anymore, just confused, " Rory, " He shook his head, the edge of his mop tickling Rory's beaked nose, " Oh, Rory. Are you going to tell me what's wrong? "

Rory almost choked as the strong, overpowering scent that belonged to The Doctor poured into his nostrils, suffocating him, " I can't." Rory stated. He didn't want to make a fuss out of this trivial internal feud he had against The Doctor. It was nothing. It would go away, given time.

" Come on, Rory. I like to think we're friends. Friends tell each other things, right? " The Doctor looked at him hopefully, " Please, tell me. Perhaps I can help you."

Rory laughed slightly, shook his head, and moved as to avoid The Doctor's all knowing ancient eyes. Were they friends? Could they really have such a straight-forward label pinned to them? Rory didn't know what to think anymore. Yes, The Doctor was a good man, and had quite possibly the biggest heart he's ever come across ... or hearts should he say. They had been through so much together, and yes at one point Rory and The Doctor may have been friends, but things had changed now, and Rory couldn't help the hatred that coiled in the back of his mind whenever he looked at the man.

The Doctor stood up to his full height, and exhaled deeply, " Perhaps you hit your head harder than I first thought." The Doctor pondered out loud to himself.

Rory raised an eyebrow, " How did I hit my head in the first place? " He inquired.

" It may have had something to do with a big red button that I really shouldn't have touched." The Doctor looked at the ground sheepishly.

" Your driving skills were always atrocious." Rory tried to keep the bitterness he felt towards The Doctor at bay, unsuccessfully.

" Well I would have been more careful if I knew you were on board, wouldn't have I?" The Doctor's words sounded almost as if he was accusing him of something.

Rory huffed. He had enough of this. Why had he come to The Doctor anyway? It had been a terrible idea. Scrambling from off the small medical bay cot he just about managed to stand on his own two feet.

Ignoring his own swaying body, and the gut feeling that he was going to collapse at any given moment, he began to move. Anything to get away from here, or more specifically him.

" Rory .. I'm not sure it's wise to be walking around with that head of yours. "

Rory shoved The Doctor lightly, and pushed past him, ignoring his protests.

He got about as far as the first step leading to the console room when his legs finally caved in beneath him. He instantly felt a vice-like pressure crushing his hand. It took him a millisecond to realize that it was, in fact, The Doctor's hand gripping onto him: trying to stop him from falling. It was too late though he was already falling, and with him The Doctor fell too. They fell, and fell, tumbling and turning until they landed on the floor. Rory yelled out in pain as his already-battered body was crushed by the heavy weight of The Doctor landing on him.

The two men gazed at each other, both fighting for breath. The Doctor looked extremely guilty for causing him more pain. Rory looked back at him. Telling him that he was fine with his eyes. Three separate beating hearts pounded against each other in a fit of adrenaline. The Doctor didn't attempt to get off of Rory. He loosened his weight off of him ever so slightly but showed no sign of moving, or attempting to get off. Those deep forest-green eyes of his peered down at him. Rory's nose was literally brushing against The Doctor's chin. Their faces were so close together. Impossibly close. Their lips mere inches apart.

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	3. Chapter 3

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own **

**A/N: A huge thanks goes to everyone who has reviewed and to those who have added this story onto their favorites, and to everyone following this fic. And of course the biggest thank you goes to Jesa463 who has helped me write this story, and has been my beta. **

**Enjoy x**

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The Doctor looked down at the human worriedly. He hovered over him, quite aware of his current fragile state, but didn't move as he took a brief moment to study the young human. Rory's eyes were glazed over, and held none of their usual warmth. They were icy cold, and filled with such strong hatred that The Doctor could feel it emanating from them. Why was Rory angry? Was the anger aimed at him? Perhaps it was because he had fallen on top of him. He hadn't meant to. He'd only been trying to prevent further harm to him. Crushing Rory to a pulp hadn't been part of his plan.

Though he supposed that's how his life was. He tried to protect the universe from evil, and in the end he only ended up destroying it further. He was destructive. Like the flames of a wildfire reaching out to everything and everyone around him. Burning them. Reducing everything he touched to ash. Rory was just one of his many victims. When would this stop? When would the injuries he inflicted on the ones he loved stop?

He could feel Rory shaking under the tender touch of his hands, and his pattern of breathing had become erratic and ragged. If The Doctor wasn't very much mistaken, the Roman's eyes were misting up with the tell-tale signs of tears. Perhaps Rory's injuries were worse than The Doctor first imagined. Though something in the deep depths of The Doctor's gut told him that this was only slightly connected to Rory's physical state. Perhaps it was more to do with the emotional side of things. After all, human emotions were the most delicate of things. It took very little pushing for them to cry. It was most likely to do with a certain fiery red head that, come to think of it, should have been on board the TARDIS too if things were really okay with the Ponds. That brought up another rather concerning matter. Rory had lashed out at him earlier because of the use of the nickname "Pond." It wasn't like Rory at all, and besides, he hadn't put up a particularly big fight about being referred to as "Pond" before. What had changed? She wasn't with him, which meant one of two things. One: Rory and Amy hadn't really been fixed. They were still fighting, or rather avoiding each other. Or two … actually there wasn't really a second option. It was as plain as day that the young man was suffering. He seemed distant, and his expression was pained.

The moment grew more and more intense by the second. Rory's heart was thudding so hard that The Doctor could feel it pulsating into his own chest. Their faces were inches apart now. A strange tingle ran along the full length of the Timelord's spine. Rory obviously felt it as he stopped trembling momentarily. He found that his own breathing was hitching now. Skin brushed against skin. Clothes rubbed roughly at each other. The Doctor felt Rory's hands gripping his middle tightly. At first he thought Rory was going to shove him off, but instead, much to his surprise, he was dragged closer. If that was even possible. Their rib cages clashed against each other now, and breathing was becoming an impossible task. The tears finally began to spring from the centurion's eyes. They pooled at the outside corners of his eyes, slid down the sides of his temples and dropped out of sight into his hair.

Before The Doctor could even comprehend what was going on, he found that he was under vicious attack – or rather his lips were. The Doctor tried to struggle and break free. This was wrong. This was Rory for goodness sake! He had Amy! Rory's lips attacked his own from every angle. The young male's tongue flickered against his mouth's entrance. He could literally feel Rory begging him to let him enter. The Doctor was losing a fighting battle. The kiss was hot and fiery. It was filled with raw emotion. Hatred, anger, and resentment crashed over The Doctor in huge waves. It was too much. It hurt. It mixed in with The Doctor's own self-loathing and self-hatred. It pooled in every corner of The Doctor's mind. It poisoned him, and left him utterly powerless. Why was Rory kissing him? It didn't make sense. He loved Amy. He kissed her. He was loyal and big hearted. He was most certainly not the kind of person to go kissing people for a random reason. So that begged the question: what reason was fueling this kiss?

Rory began raking his hands through The Doctor's thick brown mop. The strokes began getting faster and more insistent until, finally, Rory yanked at his locks. The Doctor yelped through the kiss and tried to roll away from Rory. It was useless though. There was no escaping Rory's grasp. With each violent pull of his hair The Doctor felt yet another scream die in his throat. Giving in, he closed his eyes and waited for the whole ordeal to end. His scalp felt as if it was bleeding, and he wouldn't be all too surprised if it was. He hadn't realized before, but he had tears forming in his eyes himself. Rory was like family to him. To see him hurting so badly that he actually wanted to cause him physical pain was both terrifying and heart wrenching. He felt like whatever he had done, that he deserved this. He had inadvertently hurt Rory, and now this was his punishment. He was going to sit back and take it.

When he felt the weight of Rory's lips leave his own, he found the disturbing sound of his own screams breaking through the atmosphere. So much pain. Too much. His head was throbbing, and it felt as though blood was seeping out of his scalp. He slid off of Rory, and like a helpless child, began to crawl away. He felt exhausted, more exhausted than he had ever been in his life. He suddenly felt incredibly old, and as he caught a quick glance of the young human in the corner of his eye, he realized that he was.

He was an ancient God, rusting away, covered in dust and emotional scars. Every God has to fall. Perhaps this was his time. The time where the universe finally put him in his place. But why had it come in the form of a kiss? And from Rory, of all people? It didn't make sense. Why?

"Wha-" he gasped, trying to form a sentence, but his mind wouldn't cooperate. His mouth could only spit out semi-coherent whats and whys. He struggled to catch his breath and regain composure. After a while he tried again

"What the hell was that?!"

"Oh, God." Rory muttered over and over. "Oh, God. Oh, God!"

A swift movement caught his eye. He looked over at Rory. He saw him sit up and back himself into a corner, curling himself into a messy ball of tense nerves. He clenched his fists and pressed them into his eyes, groaning with the pain he inflicted on himself. He proceeded to rock back and forth. He sobbed, hiccuped and gasped for breath as his shoulders shook. The Doctor knew he was looking at a broken man that had just hit his all-time low. He wanted to look away. No, he told himself, this is the consequence of your actions. He needed to fix this.

He started to slowly scoot himself over to where Rory was scrunched up. He sat himself mere inches from the trembling form of the man. He tentatively reached out a hand to him, delicately gripping one of Rory's wrists. He tried to carefully pull it away from his face to make Rory look him in the eyes so he could see his hurt, his regret and his sorrow communicated through them. He softened his voice, trying to comfort the man with a light hushing noise.

"Oh, Rory. I'm so sorry." He said, putting extra emphasis into his apology.

Rory only shook him off. "Don't touch me!" he snapped. "Just get away!"

The Doctor recoiled at the harsh words. "I'm sorry, Rory. Please-" He broke off, unable to speak through the sobs now rising in the back of his throat.

"You took everything from me!" Rory accused. "All that I love!"

"I'm sorry. I never meant for this to happen, any of it. I didn't know what I was doing. I would take it all back if I could, but I can't." The words came pouring out. He couldn't stop them, couldn't hold them back. This broken man was his doing. He had changed both Rory and Amy's life. He knew that. He hadn't known, however, the full effect he had on their relationship, until now. It wasn't until he stopped for a moment to sit still that he saw the damage.

"Of course you don't, you never do! All you do is screw things up, and by the time you realize what you've done it's too late to fix things." Rory's accusation hit home. He's right, my whole life is just one big screw up. His thoughts chipped away at his mind.

"All I can do is try. Let me try!" The Doctor pleaded

"I have nothing!" Rory looked at The Doctor, his light-green eyes wild with manic desperation. Then he crossed his arms, resting them on his bent knees, and slumped his head desolately onto them.

"That's not true. You've got me."

Rory slowly lifted his head, and threw a look in The Doctor's direction that was so haunted that goosebumps began traveling up his skin like wildfire, "You?" Rory's Adam's apple bobbed up an down in a nervous fashion, "How have I got you?" He shifted under The Doctor's watchful eyes.

"Oh, Rory." The Doctor edged forwards, "The big-hearted Roman. The last centurion." He reached his fingers out to cup Rory's chin but the young man flinched away from them like he was expecting to get burnt. Brow knitted, he made a decision, " I understand what you're feeling. I know what it's like to lose everything. I've been there. I saw my whole planet burn. I heard my people scream as they fell into oblivion. That pain that you're feeling now. I've felt it too. Except there's one difference between me and you." His voice was as dark as his hearts had become over the hundreds of years of guilt, and grief that had mutilated them.

"What's that?" Rory asked, hanging on to his every word.

"You don't have to go through it alone." And with that, he ended his valid point with a soft, gentle kiss to the lips. The shaking human kissed him back though he seemed reluctant, and unsure, like a schoolboy kissing for the first time.

A small voice cried within The Doctor's mind "why are you doing this?"

He, as per usual, ignored the voice. If he listened to the voice too often then he would never get anything done. It would drive him utterly mad.

His hearts were telling him that this was the right thing to do, and that Rory needed this, and much to his shame, he felt as though he was dire need of such close contact with someone. Someone who saw him for who he really was: a monster.

The kiss was soft and gentle; a total contrast to the previous kiss. Though The Doctor could practically taste hints of anger as his tongue traced the man's lips. He was far from earning the forgiveness of Rory.

When he eventually released Rory from his lips, The Doctor immediately stood up and backed away. Rory's eyes were dilated, and his face was creased. He was clearly as befuddled as The Doctor was feeling.

A single tear cascaded down Rory's cheeks, leaving a white stain upon his flesh. The Doctor reached forwards and caught it with the palm of his hand before it could reach the floor. There had been far too many tears shed today.

It was in that moment that Rory said two words The Doctor hadn't been expecting, "I'm sorry." He croaked.

"Rory Williams. You have absolutely nothing to apologize for. This," he gestured in Rory's direction, "is all my fault. I seems I always find a way of destroying the people I love." He muttered the last part as he knew just how true that statement really was.

Rory shook his head and smiled weakly, "You called me Rory Williams."

"That is your name, isn't it?" The Doctor smiled back. The Rory he knew and loved was starting to shine through.

"Yeh, S' pose it is." Rory retorted, moaned heavily and got to his feet. He strode over to The Doctor with what looked like a strong purpose. It would have been far more effective if he wasn't hobbling. He was definitely in pain. I'll have to do something about that, The Doctor pushed the note into the front of his mind. He closed his eyes. He was half expecting Rory to hit him.

Instead he felt fingers running through his hair. Hissing, he bit down hard on his tongue. Please, not that. Anything but that.

"Does it hurt?"

Wincing an eye open, The Doctor cocked his head slightly. "No." He lied. He wasn't about to tell Rory that his head was quite literally throbbing, and he was in total agony. Humans felt guilt so easily, and guilt was definitely not an emotion Rory should have to deal with right now.

"You're lying." Rory stated, pulling back his fingers which were now speckled in tiny droplets of blood.

"It's really not that bad." The Doctor shook his head. This time the lie was hindered by a low whimper. "Rory your injuries are far worse than mine." The Doctor pointed out in a high-pitched, slightly-panicked tone of voice.

"You didn't cause my injuries." Rory retorted as he continued inspecting The Doctor's head. "I deliberately did this to you."

"Rory! I quite literally crushed you." The Doctor exclaimed.

"Because you were trying to save me." Rory's voice sounded like a tire slowly deflating.

"Yes, well, wasn't very successful in doing that, was I?" The Doctor reached out and ran a finger down Rory's chest, and watched as a ripple of pain ran down it.

"Rory, I know this is probably the last question you want to hear right now, but, where's Amelia?"

Rory shook his head, "Can't." He choked on a fistful of sobs.

The Doctor watched as the already-broken man crumbled. "Okay then. You don't have to answer, not right now, but eventually you'll have to, you know. I need to know. For now just come back to the medical bay with me, and let's get everything sorted, alright?" The Doctor moved to wrap his arm around Rory's shoulder, motioning for him to do the same.

Rory acquiesced, and leaned a portion of his weight on The Doctor as he was helped up the steps.

Broken bones, bruises and cuts would heal, but would it even be possible to pick Rory's heart up off the floor and glue it back together again?

Only time would tell.

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	4. Chapter 4

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own**

**A/N: A huge thanks goes to all the wonderful people out there who have been reading this story so far and of course to my beta and co-writer Jesa463**

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Rory couldn't sleep, though weighed down with fatigue, his mind simply wouldn't let him. His slowly-crumbling excuse of a mind was overflowing with thoughts. His life was flashing in front of his eyes and he wasn't happy with what he saw. His tiny life in Leadworth was nothing compared to the mass size and scale of the universe. All those planets, stars and galaxies that he had seen on his travels with The Doctor made him feel so insignificant and unimportant. He hadn't had much ambition in his life, even after The Doctor placed him and Amy back in Leadworth. He remembered his biggest dream being that of becoming a small Leadworth nurse and growing old with Amy. Now that small dream had disintegrated into nothing. He wasn't going to grow old with Amy, and he's not quite sure if it would feel right going back to Leadworth just for a job. He could become a nurse elsewhere, though somehow that wouldn't feel right either. The only reason he became a nurse was due to the fact that Amy seemed to love medical men. Once upon a time, she made him dress up as the raggedy Doctor. She had placed him in an over-sized shirt that they had stolen from his dad. A small trace of a smile flickered across his features as he remembered the days where he and Amy were happy. That Scottish accent of hers was beautiful and commanding. He fell for that voice of hers from the moment she came up to him and said 'hello'.

However his smile soon began to falter as his mind resumed to the present. He was, once again, lying down on the medical bay cot in the TARDIS. He was quite literally feeling a million miles from his old life in Leadworth. His injuries were still vast and a fiery-hot pain was constantly burning under his aching muscles. Though he wasn't about to bother The Doctor about it. Rory knew that even by sneaking on-board the TARDIS he had caused only hassle for the Timelord. Not only had he gotten under The Doctor's feet but he had also hurt him, immensely so. Rory felt a sharp shudder jolt down his spine at the sheer memory of The Doctor screaming. When those blood-boiling sounds had reached his ears, he knew he should have stopped. He hadn't. His finger kept tugging at his hair until The Doctor was wailing on the ground, mumbling a line of incoherent words, madness blazing in his deep green eyes. Rory lifted his hand to his face and swallowed down hard. He can still imagine The Doctor's blood coming away on his fingers.

The Doctor should have gotten angry, should have kicked him out of the TARDIS at the first chance he had, but he hadn't. Instead he had done something quite shocking. He had kissed him. Though technically Rory was the one who had started the whole kissing business. However his kiss was fueled by anger and a tiny spark of something within him that that caused him to have a weird sense of attraction to the alien. On the other hand, The Doctor's kiss was the complete opposite. It had been soft, tender and filled with such care that Rory's heart almost imploded. Even now, his heart felt as though it was barely able to beat out its usual rhythm. That kiss was a sign of The Doctor begging for forgiveness, but forgiveness was something Rory was finding hard to find for the 1,000-year-old alien that had cost him everything

As Rory lay stranded on the medical cot, he began mulling over the complicated feelings stirring up within him towards The Doctor. At the same time of feeling an immense anger that was burning at his very core, he can feel other emotions too, weaker ones, but were far more consistent. He felt guilty, he felt sorrow, he felt the happiness he had felt when traveling the stars with him, and he felt a deep gut-wrenching connection. That connection was probably due to the fact of The Doctor being similar to him. Similar given the fact that he also had nothing left. The Doctor had told enough stories of Gallifrey for Rory to know just how much he had lost. Though as The Doctor pointed out, there was a big difference between the two of them. Rory didn't have to go through it alone. He had The Doctor. That is if he chose to stay on-board the TARDIS.

He let out a deep, frustration-filled sigh. He was frustrated with himself because the idea of staying on the TARDIS with The Doctor rather than going back home was becoming more and more appealing. It would be a fresh start of sorts, a fresh start but on familiar grounds. He would have The Doctor to confide in and as company. If he went back to Earth then what would he have? The answer was a simple and dismal nothing. He would be alone, and Rory hated being alone.

Fed up of having nothing to do but think, and thinking was becoming increasingly more painful to do, Rory shifted himself from the bed and stood on his own two feet. He felt stronger than before despite his array of fresh bruises from falling down the stairs, but he still felt fragile, as though he would just simply blow away if he came across a breeze. Luckily in the TARDIS there's no breezes. In fact it's quite stuffy. The TARDIS had always been that way though : A stuffy, bitter- cold, seemingly-never-ending maze of corridors and rooms. Though something about that had always seemed a little appealing to Rory. Despite the TARDIS's large size it was snug, and cozy, and felt like home. He supposed in a way, from the amount of time he spent on the TARDIS, it was a second home.

Rory walked down the winding golden corridors, unsure of where he was going. His stomach gave off a small but surprisingly-loud rumble. When had he last eaten? Rory frowned for a moment, realizing he can't even remember when that was or what he had eaten. He found himself wishing for the TARDIS kitchen. It was always stocked with plenty of food. It didn't come as much of a shock when, only moments after wishing for the kitchen, it quite literally popped out of nowhere. The Doctor had told him a long time ago that the TARDIS was psychic and therefore can read minds, "Thanking you." Rory mumbled under his breath gratefully before walking into the kitchen.

It was a large open space, and was probably the most human-orientated room. In other words it was normal, and held no dangerous and frightening alien objects within it, at least not to Rory's knowledge anyway. A huge glass table occupied the centre of the room. Usually The Doctor steered clear of the kitchen, only ever popping in for an occasional bowl of custard with fish fingers, or an odd jammy dodger here and there. Currently though he was sat on the tall matching glass chairs behind the table, holding a cup of strong black coffee, closed eyes, panic-tainted features, cross-legged, and ever-so-slightly slumped. To a normal observer it would have looked like he was just simply in a state of deep concentration, but Rory was no normal observer. He noticed things. Things such as the way The Doctor's breathing was slightly slower than normal, and the way there was no movement under his eyelids was a sure sign of one thing. The Doctor was asleep.

Rory blinked and shook his head. The Doctor never slept. Perhaps he had been wrong in his conclusion. However not even a second later a loud snore escaped from the floppy-haired man. Rory moved forwards and took the dangerously-close-to-tipping cup from The Doctor's hands. The cup of coffee was stone-cold, meaning The Doctor must have been asleep for quite a while. He indeed looked like he needed it, from the purple circles lining the underbelly of his eyes. It was concerning to say the least. Rory placed the cup down on the glass table and watched, just simply watched. Despite his sleeping state the other man was anything but peaceful. He looked like he was being tortured slowly and painfully. It made Rory wonder what it felt like to be the last of your kind. It must hurt a billion more times than the hurt and grief Rory's feeling from Amy's lack of presence in his life. It made Rory's guilt from causing The Doctor more pain double.

Suddenly The Doctor started to mumble in his sleep, and his expression twisted and contorted in pain. He was still sleeping but dreaming, or rather having a nightmare. Rory studied his behavior closely. He could catch gasps of "No, don't.", "I can't." and "I'm sorry." It was pitiful to watch him. Even in his sleep, he was still suffering the torment of his guilty mind. It was heartbreaking. Rory wanted to comfort him, but he didn't want the man to wake. He slowly reached out and stroked the side of The Doctor's face lightly, making unintentional hushing noises. The sleeping Timelord whimpered at the man's touch, and a tear rolled from the corner of his eye.

Then The Doctor's eyes started to flicker open and Rory quickly retrieved his hand. His eyes were still clouded by the pain and sorrow that bled through his crumpled features. It took them a moment to register their surroundings. Once they saw Rory, they were confused and embarrassed. "What are you doing here? How long have you been sitting there?" The Doctor slurred, his tongue still heavy with fatigue.

"I got hungry and the TARDIS brought me here. I just got here." Rory answered truthfully.

"What did you see?" The Doctor asked, looking awkwardly at his hands.

"You were having a nightmare and talking in your sleep." Rory replied softly.

"I'm sorry if I worried you." he said, bowing his head in shame.

"It's alright. I understand." Rory soothed.

"I didn't want to fall asleep, it just happened." he explained, then added as an afterthought, "I never meant for you to see me like this." It was heartbreaking to see him like this. The Doctor had always been the strong one, and now he was as emotionally wrecked as Rory himself was.

"It's okay." Rory said and put a consoling hand on The Doctor's wrist. "Sometimes you need to-" He was immediately interrupted by The Doctor.

"No it's not. You're right. I destroy lives. It's all I'm good at." The Doctor choked on sobs rising in his throat. "I destroyed your life. How can that be okay?" he asked angrily.

Rory looked straight at The Doctor, "Because you are also right. I don't have to go through it alone, and neither do you."

"But why do you care? I thought you hated me. After ... " he struggled to find the right words. "After what I did to you. After what you did to hurt me."

Rory sighed in regret as the memory flooded back again. "I'm sorry about that. I don't hate you. I hate what you do, what you did. But you're still my friend. I still care about you." he said sincerely, adding with increased emotion, "A lot." His words hit home with a solid impact. Rory really did care for The Doctor, and to see him so pained and distraught was really quite distressing.

The ancient alien rose to his feet, looking troubled, and extremely agitated, "I just wanted company." He sniffled a little, "I was lonely. It's wrong of me, taking humans into my whirlwind of a life, but it seems I can't stop myself. I try to tell myself to stop – I try Rory – I really do." The Doctor's chest was heaving heavily now. His whole body was quivering.

Rory exhaled and did something that not even he could have anticipated doing. He hugged The Doctor. The Doctor at first was a frozen mass in his arms but it didn't take long for him to melt into the embrace. Hugging The Doctor wasn't as awkward as Roy had initially imagined. It was warm, and though it should have felt wrong to be hugging someone as masculine as The Doctor whereas his hugs were usually aimed at Amy, it didn't, it felt surprisingly right. The Doctor was a surprisingly-good hugger. For a long moment in time the two men stood there, breathing in each other. There was a brief moment where Rory couldn't stop looking at The Doctor's perfectly carved lips. It seemed they should have belonged to an angel, not to the overly clumsy 1,000-and-something-year-old alien. Rory wondered why he couldn't stop staring, and then he realized that he was feeling a little flushed. He hadn't felt like this before, not even with Amy. It was a mixture of hot lust and nervousness. He licked his lips and edged closer. Green eyes pooled into his soul. The Doctor, though a naive being, seemed completely aware of what was going on in their situation. He too looked flushed, his cheeks were red, and a small bead of sweat hung on a thin thread on his forehead.

"Rory, what are we doing?" His voice was cracked, on the verge of breaking.

"Like I said: I care for you a lot." Rory cupped a hand under The Doctor's chin.

"Rory – I – you don't want this." The Doctor stuttered.

To tell the truth, Rory isn't sure of what he wants. He isn't sure of anything any more. He's never been one to act on an impulse, but for this one time, he's going to. The Doctor began mumbling under his breath like an idiot. Rory isn't quite sure what he's saying, but it's something about the first two kisses being wrong, and the fact that Rory shouldn't kindle a third. No, kissing The Doctor, it felt right, it made everything slip away.

Rory sealed off The Doctor's rambles with a hot, confusion-filled kiss.

This shouldn't be happening, this shouldn't be what he needs, but he does need it. Because when you've been burnt by The Doctor, only the man himself will be able to heal you.

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	5. Chapter 5

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own**

**A/N: A huge thanks goes to all my readers, and to my beta Jesa463.**

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The Doctor, though spinning around the TARDIS console so rapidly that his legs almost got tangled up with one another and his head began to spin, was still unable to get Rory out of his mind – or rather the kisses and tender touches he and Rory had so recently shared. Every time his mind tried to jump to another topic he found himself having images of Rory hurled at him at a thousand miles per hour. His brain was under attack, and he just couldn't stop it. This, in itself, was bad – extremely bad indeed. For a man such as himself not being able to forget was a disaster. If he was able to remember every thing that had happened in his long, long life, then he'd be mad – or madder than he already is to be more precise. He felt so ridiculously silly dwelling on something as simple as a hug and a kiss, so stupidly sentimental and human. It was sometimes impossibly hard to remember that he isn't human, and that he's a Timelord, but he had to remember that, he couldn't ever forget that. If he, for one moment, fooled himself into thinking that he was human he might just very well crumble, because no matter how hard he would try and believe that, the day would come where the people he loved, such as Rory Williams, would perish. He would be left to stand on their graves, to weep, and to grieve. Rory had seen him dreaming, which was also a far too human-like habit to have, he was becoming more human, but he wasn't human, he was Timelord.

His dangerous thoughts of his own humanity, and the fact Rory was now staring at him with two smoldering eyes was driving him to the brink of a new level of insanity. He has to get out of here, out of the suddenly-too-small-on-the-inside box, and he has to do what he does best, he has to run straight into the face of trouble itself. Yes, that's what he needed: trouble. He needed something to keep his mind off of things, even if it was for a little while. He pressed as many random buttons as possible, turned his body in two clumsy movements and smiled a little sheepishly at the Roman. At least he'd be able to keep Rory's mind off of things too. It seemed they were both fighting off their own personal demons. It would be good to get a bit of fresh air. Fresh air can do a man the world of good.

"Now Rory, prepare to be amazed!" The Doctor exclaimed, skipping over to the doors in a flash of heightened excitement, " Welcome to the floating city of Arieth! Blimey! I've never been here before – that's new. Me not being somewhere before I go there." He licked his lips, and rubbed his hands in anticipation.

"Is there a reason why you've not been there?" Rory asked, sounding quite worried.

The Doctor frowned, "Not that I know of, but my brain can't hold every single bit of information in the universe, can it?" No, his mind could only focus on Rory, the way he smelt all humany and the way his beaked nose made him look so beautifully sculpted, "Now lets go, shall we?" The Doctor fluently sprang the doors open and stepped out of them, and into nothingness.

There was no solid ground, no anything in fact, just the darkness and the never-ending fall. _Ok Doctor - don't panic - Doctor, you're panicking - Doctor stop. _He wanted nothing more than to clamp his eyes shut, but his fear was holding them firmly open. Wherever he was, it was freezing cold, the air was thick with a bluey-green smog, but there was no breeze, just an unnerving stillness.

He heard his name being called from above him. No, Rory! Something was terribly wrong here, and Rory could be in terrible danger. Of course, danger was sort of what The Doctor had been looking for, which, looking back on things, wasn't the brightest of ideas. But still, this kind of danger was immensely powerful. It wasn't the "Oh dear we better run" kind of danger, it was more of a "This is only going to end in doom" kind of danger. Goose bumps rippled through The Doctor's entire body and every single hair on the back of his neck raised. With a horrible smack, The Doctor hit the bottom of the dark cavern below him. His head throbbed in a mild protest and his vision became a blurred memory. He placed a hand on his head, but was quick to pull it away. It was now covered in a sticky substance. This wasn't a good sign, in fact, there were no good signs in sight. He couldn't see a thing, not just because of the knock to the head he's just received, but because there was literally nothing to see. It was pitch black, with no signs of life, and no signs of ways he could escape, apart from obviously the way he came, and that was a long way up.

He tried rising to his feet and for a moment was successful, but that success was soon outlived as something knocked him back down, " Ooof! That really hurt!" He gasped, a little taken aback. He could hear breathing, terribly heavy and almost ominous breathing. Something began to crawl across him, something slimy and hot. He shivered in repulsion, and swallowed down hard as he felt hard talons scratch the surface just above his Adams apple. He wanted to move, to run and never look back, but something instinctively told him that if he did that then he'd be killed on the spot.

"Doctor." A voice tickled against his ear in a greeting, it's tone intimate, and it's words so soft that The Doctor barely caught the sound of his own name.

"Hello, dear. You've heard of me then?" He replied. He was quickly answered by a sharp knock to his chest, whipping the air from his lungs. He choked and spluttered, "How rude!" He yelped, earning another swipe from the talons, this time across his cheek, drawing blood.

"I ask the questions around here. " The voice was still no more than a whisper, but that somehow made it sound that much more intimidating.

"Okay, ask away." The Doctor retorted.

The creature applied more pressure to The Doctor's body causing him to cry out in pain. He was sure that he had just broken something. The sound of bone cracking hit the air and screams of pain echoed out. Yup he'd definitely broken something –a rib maybe?

"I make the orders around here too. You are to say nothing."

The Doctor was grabbed, hauled to his feet, and dragged. He continued to be dragged in silence for what felt like hours, but to a Timelord those hours seemed to stretch on for eternity. When the creature finally let go of him, he was pushed to a corner of a, if possible, even darker place than previously.

"You really like the whole doom and gloom thing, don't you?" The Doctor mildly commented. His head was immediately slammed repeatedly against the hard floor.

"Quiet!" The voice roared. A loud moan crept out of The Doctor's lips, "I said quiet! If you don't be quiet the human will be destroyed"

"Rory? No. NO! NO!" The Doctor screamed. A kick to his guts soon followed. The talons gripped his head into a firm, awkward, and painful position, and a slick tongue ran over his face.

"I think we have an agreement Doctor."

The Doctor tried to nod but the talons prevented him from doing so. He bit down on his tongue till he tasted blood trickling into his mouth. He wasn't going to speak. He wasn't going to make a sound. He just hoped Rory wasn't suffering a fate akin to his.

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	6. Chapter 6

**DICLAIMER: I do not own **

**A/N: I would just like to thank our readers for your support and patience, and of course for jesa463 for being a brilliant beta. **

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"Doctor!" Rory screamed in blind terror as the over-excited raggedy man just simply fell through a shaft of blue clouds. His voice echoed on for miles, loud and clear as a bell. This suggested that wherever The Doctor had just fallen through was quite deep. His eyes widened in response to the current shock his body was catapulting through, and the usual thrum of his heart became unsteady as he imagined what lay beneath that ominous blue smog – and what fate awaited the alien that had just fallen through it.

Despite every instinct in his body telling him to panic, to crawl into a small ball of useless limbs and shaking nerves, he knew that it wouldn't help the situation he'd found himself in, it would probably only worsen it.

Now all he had to do was ask himself a very simple question: What would The Doctor do?

His brain wiggled uncomfortably with the attempt of trying to think like the insane Timelord. He'd probably do something reckless and highly dangerous. If their roles were switched Rory's sure that The Doctor would probably just jump out of the TARDIS doors without a second thought, but Rory wasn't really too hot on that idea, and besides The Doctor was The Doctor, and he, well he was Rory Williams, human and very aware of his breakability, but then he did have the strange habit of surviving. What on Earth was he to do? Anything, and anyone could be waiting below that pit of despair, but The Doctor needed him. He could be hurt – or rather the most unthinkable and painful thing that Rory would find down there – dead and crushed – or dying with no hope of survival.

No! He had to stop thinking like that. If there was one thing that he had learned on his travels with The Doctor, it was that there was always hope. He had to go after him. There was no other choice. He couldn't pilot the TARDIS, could he? No, probably not. Even with the time machine's help, he wasn't connected enough to the TARDIS for her to tell him what to do. There had been a time where they had spoken – she'd called him pretty boy – he'd seen the body she'd been given die.

Rory flinched at the cold memory, but smiled briefly, remembering that despite the TARDIS's human death, she was in every aspect still very much alive. Maybe she could help – maybe?

Closing the doors shut, feeling downhearted, and ever so slightly cautious, he walked over to the console, placing a hand on its smooth surface. A low, chiming hum rang out. He presumed it was the TARDIS's way of trying to comfort him. It worked, calming him down to a state where he could make clear decisions, "It's just me and you now. We've got to find him. The thing is – I've never flown you before. I don't suppose – " Before Rory had even finished the sentence he was about to say, the TARDIS began flipping her own switches, and for those she couldn't control by herself, she showed him how to. He grinned stupidly. If he wasn't very much mistaken, the TARDIS had a soft spot for him.

He switched her engines off with the blue stabilizers, or as The Doctor called them "the blue boringers." He and the TARDIS were in agreement as to making a silent appearance. Rory wasn't keen on catching anyone's attention by turning up in a loud time machine. Nor was he keen on turning up in a visible one. In one swift move he made the TARDIS invisible. He laughed, though the situation that had gotten him into the situation involving flying the TARDIS was a deadly serious one, he now knew how wonderful it felt to be at the helm of the beautiful ship, piloting her.

Much to Rory's relief, the ride was smoother than the usual trip he was accustomed to. Though perhaps that had something to do with the fact The Doctor didn't really fly her, but rather pushed random buttons and hoped for the best. Though currently Rory would give anything for The Doctor and the tumbling madness that seemed to follow him.

The landing was signaled with a significant bump, and with that bump Rory's breath hitched to such a level that it was beginning to hurt to breath. Strolling over to the double doors, he opened them and poked his head out. Wherever he was, whenever, it was incredibly dark. It was so dark, in fact, that it almost hurt to gaze into the plummeting blackness. How was he going to find The Doctor if he couldn't even see what lay in front of him?

Rory didn't have much time to think about it as he felt a sudden change in the atmosphere. A chill tingled down his spine, and the fear that had been brewing within him multiplied by a million. Swallowing down hard, he braced himself for whatever may come next, and stepped out.

"See you around." He patted the invisible box gently in the hope that he would indeed be seeing the inside of the time machine again.

It was in that moment that the screams began - long and brutal screams that coiled around him and hugged at his entire nervous system. Rory froze - those screams could surely belong to only one person, "Oh, Doctor." He muttered, feeling utterly miserable and useless. The screams continued - getting louder and louder.

Rory hadn't got a plan - Rory hadn't got any weapons - in fact Rory had nothing. There had to be a way through this though, surely?

He jumped as he heard the scattering noise of claws scraping along the cold ground. He wished that for once he could be the brave one who saved the day, and that he was as great a warrior as he'd been when he'd been a plastic centurion with Romany things within his big Roman brain.

"Show yourself." He wanted to sound bold, courageous, and threatening. However he failed on all attempts as his voice came out as nothing but a mere squeak.

He was almost certain that something was circling him, observing his movements. A solid thwack to the head confirmed this, but it was too late to react as he fell from the literal darkness into the inky black that is unconsciousness.

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	7. Chapter 7

**Sorry about the late update. I've been tossing this back and forth with my beta to make it perfect. And I haven't been able to contact her to finish of the final touches. So if you see any grammar/ spelling mistakes I'm sorry. I'll replace this chapter once we've fixed the little things. I just wanted to give you guys something to cling onto. A huge thanks goes to everyone reading this story.**

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The Doctor isn't quite sure as to when the agony began. His usual grasp on time is slipping. It seemed that even the basic minutes were flowing further and further away from him. He'd always had such a solid hold of time, but now it was beginning to melt into a thin liquid - like water in his palm dripping out of the gaps between his fingers. His brain skipped to a pleasant image of actual water. It was like his own form of personal torture as his throat was burning with a fire that is turning his entire body into a baking sauna. Water would bring a quiet relief right now, but The Doctor knows that he's far from finding refuge from the goings on around him.

He feels uncomfortable in his own skin, and wants to wriggle and writhe right out of it. If only that were possible ... well there was that time when he went to a planet where a species of alien – rather podgy pink things that waddled – could literally jump out of their own skins. This however is a completely different kettle of fish. For one he's not a podgy pink thing – at least the last time he looked in the mirror he wasn't. Getting a little off topic now! It was just far easier for his brain to skip into random memories rather than putting up with the pain that was being inflicted on his body.

Every fiber of him is weighed down by an unbearable pain. Each hair on his head feels as though they're being pulled from their roots in his skull. This brings up a dull memory, filled with pain and confusion, and ... Rory.

Rory was still close by. Something deep within his brain is telling him that. Knowing your friend is perfectly fine and close by would have been comforting to anyone else. But to The Doctor, the mere thought of Rory being anywhere near this torture chamber frightened the hell out of him. More than the unknown creatures, more than his agony and the never-ending darkness threatening to swallow him whole.

His hearts ached, thumping a manic beat out against his caved ribs. His screams of pain were forgotten for a while. His mind was completely focused on Rory. He tried to reach out to his friend but under the current circumstances he found that every time he went to do so he hit a brick wall. This meant two things. One: he was tumbling into an even more panic ridden state. And two: tears were beginning to stab behind his now-too-heavy eyelids.

Now, The Doctor wasn't usually one for tears in dangerous situations. In fact it was the danger that he lived for. However it seemed that ever since he and Rory started traveling together, even since they'd shared two kisses maybe, that The Doctor's defenses had been ripped down. Rory's blurred image spilled into his mind. He looked so vivid, so joyful, but then Rory's eyes locked onto him and there was the pain; the pain The Doctor knew only too well. It was the pain of a mad man, a man that had lived for far too long, who had come so far yet lost it all. It was the pain that welled up within him with every day of his own existence. The Doctor was unable to control himself and quickly became aware of the sobs wracking through him in between his screams. He knew that the image of Rory couldn't be real but at the same time every sensor in his brain was telling him that it was. He tried glancing away but that didn't work. The image followed him. It made him feel so tiny and defeated, like a mouse that had fallen into a trap. "Stop, STOP! Please? " He was begging for mercy, praying to a God that he knew deep down didn't exist. "Please?" He tried again. He sounded pathetic and broken, and above all else: impossibly human. Because what's more human than being able to feel a thousand emotions all at once?

"As you wish." A nerve-breaking voice flew through the dark, scarily soothing despite it's ferocity.

The image of Rory melted away. It was a heart-stopping moment. So sad, so very sad, like the moment an ice cream starts to melt under the sun. "What do you want?" he choked.

"Your name."

That was a major blow to the hearts. His name: the one he'd been running away from for his whole life, the most powerful word in the entire history of the universe, the name that was buried in the cascade of Medusa herself. Even thinking about his name sent him into a world of petrifying fear. Even he couldn't predict what kind of power his name now held. All Timelord names held some power. A Timelord name was often plucked from the heart of time and space, but the problem with having that kind of power attached to a name was that people abused it, they quickly lost control of it. Every child of Gallifrey was given a initiation at the age of eight. They were taken to the untempered schism and their name was taken from them, tossed away like sand slipping away under a thick ocean of blue. Except when he'd been taken to be initiated he'd run - he can still remember how terrified he was at the prospect of giving a huge chunk of who and what he was away. As a result his name had grown, and was now impossibly ancient, and unpredictable.

His name was dark, like the darkness that clawed at his soul ...

His name was his soul.

His tongue felt heavy and uncomfortable in his mouth as the mash of syllables from his name threatened to resurface into his mind and on the tip of his tongue.

"Why?"

It seemed like a reasonable question. His name, though known by few, was extremely dangerous. In the wrong hands his name could destroy whole civilizations make stars crash and burn in the sky, wipe out the universe, make everything nothing but atoms and dust. These were definatley the wrong hands.

" Because Silence will fall when the question is asked Doctor." The reply was followed by a sound that could only be laughter. A sharp talon was placed right beneath his Adams apple, constricting his breath, " And we want silence. Your silence."

The Doctor laughed back humorously, despite the talon still pinned to his neck causing him crippling pain, "Ah I see I have you to thank for the attempts on my life then."

" The whole universe resents you Doctor. Not just us. It would be a relief to the universe. You've lived for far to long. Your name has festered in the stars for several millennias now, and people are starting to notice." The talon slid down his throat, skimming over his skin with a terrifying ease.

" What kind of people?" The Doctor asked."

" The wrong ones. Lets just say that dying is a far better option than what lays in wait for you now." If The Doctor didn't know any better he'd say that whomever was addressing him was scared for their life. Fear was a strange thing. It could make people do things, say things, act out of character. His mind began to drift away again. All he could think of was his companions and the fear he must have driven into them. For surely without that fear he embedded into their hearts they would all be alive right now, they wouldn't have followed him into his dangerous life, and they'd just be living normal human lives.

" Then why don't you just kill me now?" He questioned them.

Wouldn't things be so much better if he was dead? Perhaps they were right, whoever they were, perhaps he'd lived too long, perhaps it was time to die.

" What would be the fun in that?" Came the twisted reply.

The Doctor's jaw was forced to open. He tried to struggle but with little success. Something cold and metallic latched around one one of his teeth. The metal began to tug and the tooth gave a small jerk. He let out a strangled cry as a sudden bolt of pain rode through him. This was repeated a multiple of times. The Doctor lost count of the times he screamed. His gums were becoming inflamed and the pain was now reaching an almost unbearable level. The loud squelching sound of the tooth coming undone from the gum was unmistakable and the blood from the hole left behind in his gum pumped steadily out, swilling over his tongue. He instinctively swallowed and with repulse the blood trickled down his throat. In one way this was a relief. It quenched his thirst slightly. However the tangy taste of the liquid was making him feel even more nauseous.

More of his teeth became victim to the same torture. Though the pain hadn't gone away he was becoming more and more accustomed to it.

* * *

The Doctor blinked. Confused he tried to lift his head but found that he couldn't. He, though not willing to admit it, was weak, and weary. His body just as much as his mind was effected by the constant battle with the pain.

Whoever had been subjecting him to torture was now gone, much to his relief.

He must have passed out a while back because it seemed to him that hours has passed since his last bout of pain infliction. Though he can't be sure. He's not sure of anything anymore.

" Doctor?" The voice was familiar and oh so gentle.

He tried to speak but all that he could manage was a loud grunt. It was hard to speak with almost half of his teeth pulled out.

" Oh Doctor, what have they done to you?"

He felt something brush across his face. Fingers belonging to a tentative hand. He flinched and tried to escape it's feather soft touch. It was the first time since he'd come to this torture chamber that he'd been offered such a kind gesture, and that frightened him because that hand could belong to only one person. He took a deep breath and inhaled the brilliant smell of human.

" Rory?" He whispered, licking his dry and cracked lips.

"Yes, it's me." Came the soft reply.

No - it can't be him - it's just an illusion - like before - so real - yet not really real at all.

" Get out," The Doctor muttered bitterly.

"What?"

" You heard me, GET OUT!" He yelled so loudly that his lungs began to burn, as though acid had been poured into them.

" What - uh - oh god - Doctor - please just stop." Two arms wrapped around him tightly.

The Doctor decided that he much preferred the physical pain to this physic attack. It's too much - just too much.

The thumping of another heart besides his own two broke the illusion. People can be imitated, forced into minds like puppets on a string, they can touch, and to a certain extent are almost as good as the real thing, but this, this was different. Hearts cannot be imitated. Having a heart was too complicated for even the greatest minds to fake.

" R- ory?" He stuttered, half gasping for air, half forcing what little air he has in his lungs out.

" Yes it's me. You're alright now. Everything's going to be just fine." Those words are all that is needed for The Doctor to break because he knew that they were so far from the truth.

The tears fell, and his sobs broke freely.

He only stopped crying when his lips were taken away from his control.

Soft lips were on his, comforting him, caressing him in his time of need.

He didn't even have to think about the reason behind the kiss. He couldn't care less, because right now, right this minute, it's just him and Rory, huddling in the dark, with an endless stretch of time flowing outwards.

The Doctor came to a shocking revelation. He loves Rory. He wasn't quite sure what that meant for him, or for Rory, but he knows one thing. Where there's love there's hope.

* * *

**Please leave a review x**


	8. Chapter 8

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything**

**A/N: So sorry it's taken this long guys. I'm tying up all the loose ends to my fics so please bare with me. Your patience is appreciated. **

* * *

Rory let his lips linger for a moment over The Doctor's lips. The only noises now were their own deep breaths, thrashing out from both their over-exerted lungs. The kiss had left his mouth with the bitter taste of blood, and there were tears starting to shine in his eyes. He was crying for the man that only a few hours ago he had hated with immense passion. His emotions began to splurge, oozing from his every pore, causing his mind to feel everything all at once in one swift explosion of thoughts.

One moment ago he'd been looking for The Doctor - then he'd been knocked out. When he'd first set out to find The Doctor he knew that he would find The Doctor in a terrible state. However nothing in the entire universe could have prepared him for what his eyes would lay on when he awoke from his unconsciousness. The man he had woken up to was no longer The Doctor - just his shell - his hollow and cracked shell.

" Doctor -" Rory knelt to The Doctor's height. He saw only a brief flicker of comprehension pass by on the Timelords features, but that soon trickled away from his ancient eyes, leaving nothing but a frightened sorrow, " I'm going to get you out of here - I promise. " Rory twisted his fingers through The Doctor's, " We always get out of these things." Rory tried to assure The Doctor. However it was hard to comfort someone when all you can feel is a wretched helplessness.

The corners of The Doctor's mouth twitched in a moment of gleeful nostalgia, " Those were the days."

Rory shook his head, " Don't say that. We will get out of this. The TARDIS - is er close by." Where exactly in accordance the TARDIS was to where he and The Doctor were was a complete mystery to Rory.

The Doctor's eyes widened like an animal caught in headlights, " Get out Rory - you have to get out of here." The alien pushed him away.

Rory grinded his teeth together, " There is no way in hell that I'm leaving you. " He was adamant that both he and The Doctor were going to get out of this place, wherever this place was, and would come out of this whole situation alive.

The Doctor screwed his eyes firmly shut, " They'll kill you if you don't leave."

" I'll take my chances." The young human male replied rapidly. He felt oddly protective over his friend. Yes, he decided, The Doctor was his friend, if not more that that tiny word described. Though his feelings were completely hazy and confusing, and only a few hours ago he had wanted to kill him with his bare hands, he felt more connected to the raggedy man than he had ever done.

" I'm old - maybe it's time - maybe this is how it should be for me. Not for you though Rory - go - the TARDIS will take you back to Leadworth. She'll know what to do." Rory's heart stopped beating for a moment. The memory of his life in Leadworth danced before his eyes like a fast fading dream. For a long while on the TARDIS he had always assumed that a life in Leadworth with Amy was what he'd wanted, what his heart and soul deeply desired. Now, in this life and death situation, in a place so far away from his home, with a man that was practically a danger magnet, he couldn't imagine ever going back to his dull and mundane life.

He felt guilty for thinking that because one of the reasons he had left Amy was because of their constant arguing about having kids, a thing that would have meant a settled life, and a boring nurse career, and probably only a few small sea side trips to occasionally escape from Leadworth. But for some reason all of that had changed. He felt a different man, a stronger man, someone who thrived on the lifestyle The Doctor led, someone who wasn't going to give up quite so easily.

"No." He replied firmly, "Not without you. I've come too far to turn my back on you. " Rory was amazed by how withered his own voice sounded, strained with so many emotions, and crumbling in defeat. The nurses hands went to The Doctor's restraints, "Don't fight it Doctor. Save your strength." There was no point in saying that as whatever fight that The Doctor had owned was now completely drained.

His nimble fingers got to work and before long Rory had released his friends arms from his restraints. As he moved to do the same to his feet Rory he looked into The Doctor's eye. As Rory gazed into The Doctor's eyes it was like looking on at an ocean after a storm : beautiful yet devastating.

"You look like you've given up." He stated softly, voice full to the brim with sorrow.

"Maybe I have." The Doctor replied, "As I pointed out - maybe it's time I gave up. My time."

"I don't believe that for a moment." Rory said in determination, pulling The Doctor's restraints from his feet, "I won't believe those words - no matter what you say to convince me. Please try and let me save you. Do this for me."

" Why is it so important to you for you to save me?" The Doctor's question clung to Rory's ears tightly.

The question clung tighter and swirled round Rory's mind like a thick poison for what seemed like an eternity, "Because - sometimes I think even you need saving - and because you saved me."

"There's still time. You can still head back to Leadworth - back to safety." The Doctor was struggling with his words, sounding more and more like a confused child rather than the cosmic know it all that had defeated whole races.

Rory shook his head, placing his arm under The Doctor's body, "I don't want to go back." The younger man lifted the beaten down version of The Doctor up, supporting his lower back and taking on board a large majority of his weight.

" Why?" The Doctor gasped, his lungs refusing to take on board enough oxygen.

" Amy. You love Amy. " The Doctor's words were lost to Rory as he put all his focus into getting himself and The Doctor out. Something that was probably easier said than done, " Don't you?" The Doctor pressed.

"Of course I do." Rory said, only half listening. He wanted to avoid this subject of home for as long as possible. His brow was creased as he began plotting out an escape.

"Then go back to her."

"I can't do that."

"Why?"

"I love Amy but I think I'm in love with someone else."

"Who?"

Rory didn't justify that question with an answer.

* * *

**Please leave a review. Feedback is always appreciated x **


	9. Chapter 9

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything.**

**A/N: Well, this is it guys. The end. I like The Doctor don't like endings but here's hoping you enjoy it. **

* * *

Whether it was a miracle, some act of fate, or the universe just being kind, Rory and The Doctor somehow managed to return to the safety of the TARDIS. She hummed loudly, welcoming both the human male and the broken man he was carrying. She twisted her corridors to the situation accordingly, allowing a short journey to the TARDIS medical bay. It was strange. It wasn't long ago that Rory had been the patient in here, and The Doctor the one who was nursing him back to health. Of course Rory hadn't seen it quite like that. He'd been scared and frustrated, angry, and in pain. But none of that compared to what The Doctor must be going through right now.

Rory placed The Doctor down on the cot in the corner of the room and began moving around the room collecting medical supplies, his hands did all the thinking, Which was a good thing because his brain wasn't working at its maximum capacity. The Doctor, if he was conscious, would have probably said his mind was affected because he was so humany-wumany. The man for all his genius didn't half talk like a child sometimes. Though he was familiar with most of the medical technology and The Doctor had given him a briefing on Timelord biology ( In case of emergencies like these) he was starting to internally panic. He didn't know how to fix him up but he was going to do his dam hardest to do so.

He cleaned the aliens bloodied flesh with tender fingers and stitched up his wounds, and set all of his broken bones. There was no sign of regeneration, but then Rory wasn't sure what he was supposed to be looking out for as The Doctor had informed him that each regeneration is different. You either go in a massive flash of light emitting your very being, like River, but then The Doctor had told tales of Timelord's simply fading into their new bodies. Was that what The Doctor was doing now? He was silent and unnervingly still bar the slight movement of his chest which indicated his lungs were still taking in and expelling air.

"I don't want to lose you." He whispered, caressing the top of The Doctor's dark mop of hair. "You said that when Timelord's change, everything changes, their personalities, their likes, their dislikes, and I'm terrified of that. Do you know why?" He smiled softly. For a moment he'd half expected The Doctor to pop up like a jack in the box and reply with that manic grin and buzzing eyes, and words that probably only made sense within his mind. However this wasn't the case. He stayed silent. He stayed still. Rory sighed and continued talking. "It's because if your likes and dislikes change I'm worried that … that you won't like me anymore. Or that you at least won't see me through the same eyes. I don't mean physically cus I know you're going to have different eyes but I mean you just won't see me in the same light. I won't be important to you anymore."

"Never."

Rory blinked. There were tears filling his vision. When had they gotten there? Somehow it didn't matter. All that mattered was the one word The Doctor had said. It was the first word he had spoken in hours. "Never?" Rory swallowed down the question like a bitter pill.

The Doctor looked up at him through half lidded eyes. He wasn't fully awake but at least he was conscious now. "I could never think of you as unimportant. No one and I mean no one is unimportant Rory. If you haven't learnt that then your travels with me have taught you nothing. Besides I'm not regenerating. I rather like this body. I do believe you may have just gotten to me in time."

"You're not?" Rory couldn't help the breath of relief that spiralled from his lungs.

"No. Same old me. No change here." The Doctor grinned mildly.

"Good. That's er- good." Rory stammered.

The Doctor seemed to observe him for a long while, retreating into silence once more. Rory's first instinct was to panic. Was he taking a turn for the worse again? But then as he spoke again eh found himself once again breathing out his relief. "You said that you're in love with someone."

"Yes. Yes I did."

"Someone other than Amy."

"Yes. I mean, I still love her, a lot actually. But I am in love with someone else."

The Doctor bit his lip and began to look rather sheepish. "Is this someone…"

"You?" Rory raised an eyebrow.

The Doctor nodded and made a small humming sound in the back of his throat. "That's the word I was searching for."

Rory shifted nervously when he realized The Doctor was waiting for an answer. "Yes." Was all he managed to mutter.

"I see." The Doctor for a moment looked puzzled, then disgusted, then angry, and then a look flashed across his face so vividly that it was like a light switch had been switched on within his mind.

That was the last of that conversation. For now at least.

* * *

Weeks could have passed, who knows. Time was always a foreign concept in the time machine, how strangely ironic. Rory began to count the time through the days it took for The Doctor's body to repair himself. It was a surprisingly quick recovery but Rory supposed that that was due to The Doctor's fast working alien DNA. A lot of the time the two of them just chatted. Sometimes Rory would read bedtime stories to The Doctor. This always made him smile as his voice always made the Timelord sleepy. But then there were darker conversations about why The Doctor had been interrogated and tortured by the aliens. All that had been said on that particular topic was that it was to do with The Doctor's name, after that Rory had been shushed.

It was frustrating at times to know The Doctor had so many secrets and soon Rory felt like he was tripping and slipping all over the place in order to avoid the subjects that had been named 'the forbidden things.' So far this included : The Doctor's name, feelings, the time war, and for some strange reason banana's. Why banana's was a forbidden subject was a mystery.

One day Rory, when The Doctor was up on his feet and spinning around the TARDIS once more, felt the questions spilling out of his mouth in a rush. "Why's your name so dangerous?! Why the hell can't we talk about banana's?! And what's with the avoiding our feelings crap!?"

The Doctor turned on his heel to face Rory and stared at him with wide, sad eyes. He stepped forwards and took hold of both of Rory's arms. "Oh Rory. The lone centurion. So many questions." His voice was surprisingly soft, not the anger filled words Rory had expected.

"Why?" Was all Rory was able to choke out.

The blank spaces where on any normal being eyebrows grew scrunched together. "My name is a part of me. It is my past. It is my future. It is my present. I am a time traveller Rory. I'm probably the oldest time traveller there is. It is dangerous. That's all you need to know. People will die if I were to say it."

Rory nodded, The Doctor's words falling neatly into his head. "And the banana's?"

"I used to have a friend. Her name was Rose. Rose Tyler. I always used to tell her that bananas were good." He spoke the name as if it was the most precious thing in the universe. To him perhaps it was.

"You loved her." It was a statement not a question.

"I did, but Rory I'm incredibly old. I've loved many people in my life."

"Which answers the third question."

The Doctor swallowed. "Rory – I –"

"Don't."

Rory turned away and went to vent out his anger by doing as many laps in the TARDIS pool as he could. That night he dropped onto his bed in exhaustion. Feelings, he decided, were a pain indeed, quite literally. The Doctor could never love him in the same way as he loved him. Either because he was still hung up on the Rose girl or because he'd simply decided that because he'd been heartbroken in the past he wasn't going to let anyone in.

* * *

More time passed and Rory noticed a change in The Doctor. He sometimes caught his green eyes staring at him in a way that set his skin on fire. Then there were the time where The Doctor would smile a wonderful smile and Rory just knew that that smile was meant for him and him alone. Personal space became an uncommon thing between the two of them. There were touches that lasted a little too long.

"Doctor –"

"Hmmm?"

"I want to kiss you."

Rory's heart was pounding in his chest. This was quite possibly the boldest move he'd ever made and he had no idea of how The Doctor was about to react.

The Doctor, who had been doing some maintenance on the TARDIS console sat up abruptly, smacking his head loudly against the underbelly of the console. "I –" He licked his lips, wetting them before continuing. "I don't think that would be a wise idea. Think about Amy! Wouldn't we be betraying her? I can't do that to little Amelia Pond."

Rory sighed and nodded in understanding, but he wasn't about to give up any time soon. " We could go and see her." He suggested. "Tell her what's happened."

"Nothing has happened." The Doctor said in a half whisper as he stood to his feet.

Rory frowned and moved closer, placing both his hands on The Doctor's side. "You can't lie to me Doctor. You feel something for me, don't you? I don't know what it is but you do. I feel that too." He grabbed one of The Doctor's hands and placed it on his own heart.

The Doctor turned his head away from Rory but the hand on his chest curled its fingers into the soft material of Rory's shirt. "You have no idea what it's like for me. I lose everything that I love. I have no way of protecting you. And even if I could protect you I can't stop your aging process. You'll get old and die. And I'll stay the same. " He turned back to face Rory, tears swilling in his eyes. " I can't stand endings."

"Isn't it better to have loved than to have not loved at all?"

* * *

After that The Doctor was unusually quiet and spent most of his days thinking. That was until he took Rory to the lost moon of poosh which since its recovery was just the lost moon of poosh now. Apparently it was a long story. Rory somehow doubted The Doctor had anything but long stories to tell.

He turned to Rory and wrapped his fingers around his wrist. "You were right."

"Oh. Right about what?" Rory's breath hitched in his throat as The Doctor closed in.

"It is better to have loved than to not love at all."

The kiss they shared right then was soft and sweet and sent Rory weak kneed and giddy. It was a long time before either men retreated back to the TARDIS. They spent that time ogling each other like it was the first time they had met.

* * *

It was decided that they'd tell Amy sooner rather than later. So they stood side by side outside Amy's house. The person who opened the door wasn't the Amy they remembered. She was older. Much older.

"Oh." The Doctor's lips pressed together in surprised. "I think I may have made an incy wincy mistake when it came to setting the dates."

"You think?"

The Amy who wasn't really Amy didn't seem shocked at all. She was smiling, beaming that great big smile that Rory hadn't seen in a long time. It meant she was happy. Truly happy. "Are ya just gonna stand there?" She asked, her voice thick and Scottish.

"Um…?" Rory hummed and frowned.

"Just go on in. You know Amy. No one gets to say no to her." The Doctor whispered into Rory's ear.

Rory moved into the house. It was just how he remembered. It even smelt the same but with a big difference. It was lived in now. It wasn't just a house it was a home. "So, how have you boys been?" She asked, wriggling her eyebrows suggestively.

Rory and The Doctor passed each other a look of utter confusion. Rory shrugged and The Doctor took a tentative step towards the red haired lady. "Amelia …"

"You're here to tell me you two are together now."

"Well- I wouldn't say together. We've shared a few kisses." Rory muttered, his ears turning pink. "They were good kisses too."

"Wait. How did you know?" The Doctor asked out of curiosity.

"Your future self told past me about it. You muppet."

Things were a little more relaxed after knowing Amy knew all about The Doctor and him. Amy seemed genuinely happy though she informed the both of them that it hadn't always been that way, and her past self had taken the news rather badly. Still, she'd done well for herself. She'd moved on. She was a local journalist working for the Leadworth times and she'd met a man who treated her well. She'd settled in to domestic life very well and now found The Doctor and Rory's love for each other almost endearing .

When they left Amy's house it was all smiles and Rory slipped his hand into The Doctor's. "Back to the TARDIS then."

"Back to the TARDIS." The Doctor hummed, clicking his fingers and entering the box.

The universe was for once peaceful, like the an ocean lapping at grains of sand. Rory knew where there was calm there would always be a storm soon after. But he would be ready for it. With The Doctor by his side Rory felt like he could accomplish anything.

* * *

**And so our journey finally comes to an end. Please leave a review. X**


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